


Light in the shadows

by cherrygoldlove



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Q, M/M, Mentions of rape and torture, non-con/rape outside of James/Q
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-04-21 01:30:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14274003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrygoldlove/pseuds/cherrygoldlove
Summary: Wiping his forehead, grumbling at the scabs he pulled with the move and the blood trickling over the side of his forehead, James gave himself a mental shake. He couldn’t yet let his guard down. They still had miles to go, still had people on their trail.





	1. Chapter 1

Wiping his forehead, grumbling at the scabs he pulled with the move and the blood trickling over the side of his forehead, James gave himself a mental shake. He couldn’t yet let his guard down. They still had miles to go, still had people on their trail. 

He clamped down hard too on the anger brimming in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t the time for it yet either. There will come a time, someday soon, he’ll turn back and let the dogs of wars loose upon the ones who wronged him, who stole from him and hurt the one love he ever had. But not today. Today he had to keep vigil, be ready and prepared and get his treasure back into the safe arms of his Country.

Pouring over the couple maps he had, the tablet propped up next to him and his gun freshly cleaned, James’ mind was going through all the routes they could go. It was back to the good old practices, the old school of running and outsmarting his enemies, no tech support for this mission. Too dangerous now with the best eliminated from taking active part in this exchange.

Q was relatively alright - no broken bones, no gun shot wounds. Just beat up, burnt, cut up.

Raped.

It took Bond close to a week to get to him after the Quartermaster was snatched from their care. Much too long. James will have the heads of the irresponsible little shits that were supposed to shadow and protect Q. And the rest of the so called security detail just earned themselves at least a three months long bootcamp with him. He’ll teach the little assholes how to be proper security. And then he’ll wreck havoc on the enemies of the Crown that dared to kidnap Q.

Reaching for the bottle of water, James took two big gulps. No whiskey for him until they’re on home soil. He needed all his wits about himself. 

The apartment was eerily quiet now, the brunet sleeping in the adjourning room. Sleeping or at least trying to rest after James tended to his wounds, the blond hoped.

But it was only couple moments later that James noticed movement in his peripheral vision and heard the soft patter of Q's feet on the wooden floors. Dressed only in James’ white shirt, Q walked towards him, hair mussed and his step wobbly and unsure. Careful.

“You shouldn't be up” James said, his voice low and even despite how his heart constricted at seeing Q in pain.

Q just made a noncommittal sound as he came closer, hand reaching out towards James’ shoulder as he moved to place himself gingerly in the blond’s lap. Perched on James’ right knee, Q laid his head on James’ bare shoulder and breathed deeply, the shaky exhale hitting James’ neck and making a shiver run down his back.

Not wanting to cause the willowy man more pain, James placed his hand gently first on Q's back and then moved it up and down the bumpy spine in comfort before resting just under the other man's ribs.

Usually his hand rested over Q's hip, but now his lover's hips were too bruised for that.

Split lip and brow, bruised cheek. Cracked rib or two and minor cuts all over the corpus. A myriad of cigarette burn on the left pectoral and down the concave stomach finishing just above the groin. Finger shaped bruises all over Q's hips. Anal tearing and fissures. Still bleeding when Bond found him, the violation seeming recent.

Q's hand came up and cradled blindly at James’ cheek.

“Thank you.”

James swallowed hard.

“I should have been there, they shouldn't even have had a chance to pat your wrist…”

“Doesn't matter. You came.”

“Are you alright?”

“I'm fine. I'll be fine.” Q nuzled closer “Are- Are we fine?”

It took James a long moment to realise what the boffin meant.

“We're fine. I'd be a hypocrite to think otherwise, darling. But we are going to have words later about you not telling me when invitations to treason turn to threats.”

“I thought-”

“I know. You thought you had it under control. Pot, kettle. I'm trying to be more cautious, you should've been smarter than me.”

He didn’t want to scold Q now when his violated and abused lover was in such a fragile state. Trying to put on a brave face, Q was holding up remarkably well all things considered, but James knew the facade would break someday soon. And he’ll be there every step of the way to make sure Q would heal properly and fully, body and soul. No use both of them being wrecks. He’ll do everything in his power to comfort his lover. Only then he’ll let himself think of revenge.

He consoled himself on the thought Alec was surely lurking in Moscow now, waiting for his perfect shot. James would love to take the high profile hit himself, but his first priority was to get to Q. 

This time he'd allow Alec to be the one to have all the fun and destabilise the situation in Europe. When he’ll be able to leave Q’s side, then he’ll join the fun.

First things first, though.

They weren't in the clear yet, they still had to fight their way to Poland or Germany for a more or less safe flight, or if James managed to get his hands on some proper car - just drive to London.

“Come on love, you should be laying down and resting as much as you can.”

Q’s arms tightened around him almost frantically before a shuddering breath made the muscles forcibly relax. James squeezed his lover’s body to his in response, careful to not cause more hurt.

“I’ll go with you. We have an hour left till dawn. Then we leave.”

He could feel Q nodding against his shoulder and, unclenching his hold of his shoulders, the boffin rouse up to stand on unsteady feet.

There was a red stain on James’ thigh and Q’s breath hitched when he noticed it.

James stood up and enveloped the trembling body in his arms, lips pressed against one shapely ear as he whispered soothing words. “It’s alright, love. You’re alright. Let’s get you to bed now.”

Grabbing his gun, he guided the unresisting body back to the bedroom and helped Q lay down, tucking himself close a moment later and placing the gun within easy reach.

They laid on their sides, facing each other and with Q’s head tucked under his chin James could feel the tears against his skin, feel the air between them grow damp and hot. 

He was never good with words, never the emotional type, and James felt quite helpless now. Tucking the flimsy cover more firmly around Q’s form before burying his hand carefully in the dark, unruly strands, petting, he placed his lips close to Q’s ear.

“I love you. I got you.”

Q’s arms wound tightly around him in response and James swore he’ll never let Q out of his sight again. Fuck the Queen, the Country, the missions. This, held in his arms now, was his world. 

Closing his eyes, he let himself enjoy this brief rest before they had to be on the move again. No one was taking Q from him again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for all the lovely comments :*

I made you run when I should be carrying you, I made you bear my weight on top of you when I shielded you from shrapnel from a hand grenade i threw behind us when I should give you space and not remind you of the other bodies that pushed you under them. 

Still, you bear it with grace and strength and courage and you never, not once disobeyed my guidance, never once pushed me away. And we made it back to safety.

So now, here I am in a place I never thought I'd ever be willingly - in therapy. With you.

I listen to you talk about all the things they put you through, I give my support, I share my experiences with torture and rape. I collect you up from the appointments you have on your own and seek the therapist by myself to learn how to be what you need.

We go to Medical together, we visit the plastic surgeon about the cigarette burn scars. You ask me if you should get rid of them, if they make me as nauseous, as disgusted as they make you feel when I look at them.

They don't matter. I don't care about such miniscule things. You're here, you're safe. You let me be by your side. That's all that matters to me. 

You want them gone? Fine, I'll help you change the dressings on the tiny scars left from the removal and then help you pat on the special creams meant to reduce scarring. 

The scars I'm most worried about are on your mind and soul and those I'll fight with all my might to help you heal from. 

You deserve not to flinch from my touch when you don't expect it, you deserve to sleep through a night and not wake up frantic and in cold sweat. You deserve to love me and be loved by me, unconditionally.

And you needn't worry I'll go search for an easy lay somewhere else, this, us, is not about “getting my dick wet”. If you never want to be penetrated again that's perfectly alright, I can do without. 

As long as I can hold you in my arms and press the chastes of kisses to your skin. As long as you feel comfortable to orgasm without feeling wrong and bad about it, be it with my help or without. 

You let me sleep in one bed with you, you seek to cuddle close when we sit on the sofa in the evenings. You let me hold you when you're scared.

I'm so proud of you.

You're doing well. 

And we'll be alright.


End file.
